


What Little Remains

by delighted



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 01:30:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8231473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delighted/pseuds/delighted
Summary: Steve gets a letter that leaves him feeling like there’s just nothing left.... Then he realizes there is one thing left.... One very important thing.
(Mmmm.... better call it another Fantasy Series Seven story....)





	

**Author's Note:**

> The title for this (it's from “Breakeven” by The Script) came to me out of nowhere, as I was waking up the other day. Just a title. At first I thought it was for a story I was already working on-- but I quickly realized it was something else entirely, and I actually got kind of upset about having another idea thrown at me (I was working on four stories as it was). But as I let myself think about it, I fell in love with the story it became, and then I just needed to get it out so I could get back to the other stories.... So, it's a bit rushed and maybe a bit rough, but I think that's what it wanted to be. 
> 
> A heartfelt thank you to [JeffreyAlan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/JeffreyAlan) (which, really, all my stories should say).... Because I whined to him about having “too many ideas” and he of course put me in my place. Thanks, babe.

Steve knew what the letter was before he even opened it. He couldn’t have said how he was so sure, but it felt like he’d known it was coming, somehow he’d been feeling it.... It had happened in the hospital, maybe while he’d been under for so long, waiting for Danny’s liver, so much blood lost, so much pain.... in the midst of all of that, somehow what had come to him, with crushing clarity, was that Cath was really gone this time.

He’d said he wouldn’t wait, but he’d known it was a lie, known his time with Lynn was biding his time. Yes, he’d tried. Well. Sort of. Deleting the contact page for someone you could call blindfolded really is meaningless. He’d kind of tried to pretend he was moving on. But he hadn’t. Not in his heart. For a while he’d been mad at himself for being so weak, being so unable to just put her out of his mind and move on. But there’d been something that just kept him from being able to.

Now he was holding in his hands the letter that was going to do it for him. He knew that with such a rush of feeling he couldn’t begin to make sense of. He grabbed the bottle of rum and a glass, shoved the letter in his pocket, and headed to the beach. He put the letter under the bottle, tossed the glass on the chair, took his pants and shirt off and headed for the water.

He wanted to swim till his head was clear, but it was glaringly obvious fairly quickly that clarity was not going to be something he was going to achieve by any means, so he swam hard until he was at least not angry with himself for being completely messed up by this, then turned back.

By the time he reached land he was winded, much more than he would typically be after a swim, even taking his recovery into account. He knew it was emotion. And he wasn’t happy about that.

He looked at the bottle. Picked up the shot glass. Poured a shot, overflowing. Downed it in one. Poured another, slightly less full, took it in two sips. Poured another, set it down, left the lid off the bottle, sat down in the chair. And stared at the letter.

Glaring at the letter was not actually helping, however, so eventually he picked it up and held it. He looked over at the shot glass. Then back down at the letter. He opened it, slowly, carefully. As though that would help. It didn’t.

It read just exactly like he’d known it would. Practically to the very words she used. Well. They had known each other for a long time. And very well.

He sighed. Kept a hold on the letter, but let the hand holding it drop. He leaned back in his chair, suddenly finding he felt uncomfortable in his wet underwear, wishing he’d changed into his swim trunks. Looking over at the still-filled-shot-glass again, he sighed, picked it up, downed it, and headed for the house, bringing the letter but nothing else.

When he got to the house, he tossed the letter on the dining room table, then took the stairs two at a time, stripped off his wet underwear, tossed it in the tub, pulled the swimsuit off the back of the bathroom door, stepped into them, looked at himself in the mirror, and deflated.

He felt old. That was one thing. But to see that starting to reflect back at him. It sure didn’t help. He certainly wasn’t getting any younger, and what did he have to show for it? The one relationship he’d admittedly used as his “fall back” was now irrevocably out of reach, and there was nothing else at all impactful in his line of sight. All the eggs in that one Catherine shaped basket. Now all gone. And him left, dripping salt water on his bathroom floor but not crying, holding nothing. Well. He still had the ring. Because he couldn’t do anything with it. But he just felt so empty. He took a deep breath and scolded himself as he walked back down the stairs and headed back out to the beach. Because the thing was, if it was empty now, it had been hollow before. He just hadn’t wanted to let himself see that.

Having reached the chairs, he headed back for the water. His heart wasn’t really in it, and he was still winded, which—rather than angering him, which might have fired him up—just seemed to pull him further down. And, natural buoyancy aside, feeling pulled down is not a good feeling with which to enter the water. He wound up turning on his back and just floating, letting the waves lift him up, let him drop, only to lift him up again.... He almost wanted to laugh, because wasn’t that a lovely metaphor for life. And he knew he’d be lifted back up to his usual level. Work would do it, his team would do it, life as usual would do it.....

And suddenly he was dropped so far down that he went under and choked on salt water. Because he had, in a flash, seen something he had not let himself see before.

Danny.

It wasn’t the team that would lift him back up. They were ohana, of course they were. But it was Danny he meant in his heart. And he loved his work. That had always been a vital part of his life—it had been one of the things he and Catherine had probably too much in common. But it wasn’t the work he’d thought of when he told himself work would make it better. It was Danny.

Was it always Danny?

Sputtering on salt water, he sat up in the waves, as if that would help him to see more clearly.

The image that had come to him before, of a basket that was utterly bare, was now blinding him with the presence of his partner. Was that even possible?

As if the universe had decided enough was enough, and knowing there was only one way to prove it, Danny actually showed up on the beach right at that very moment.

Steve was caught completely off guard. It was like he was utterly paralyzed. Here, in front of him was something he’d never even let himself imagine, never known he could imagine it, and now that it was laid bare, utterly exposed, he knew he couldn’t live without it, and he felt like he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, _and he had absolutely no idea what to do_.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t been in love with a man before. His most amazing relationship ever... well. That was a heartache to dwell on another day. But this was _Danny_. And, oh my god, that was a whole different ball game.

He stood up and slowly walked out of the water. Danny’d brought a towel. That made Steve smile. Of course Danny’d brought him a towel.

“You weren’t answering your phone....” Danny said, by way of explaining his presence.

Steve felt a surge of guilt. He’d been about to text Danny back about getting together for drinks that evening when he’d seen the letter. His phone was still sitting on the kitchen counter.

He walked up to Danny who handed him the towel with a smile that was filled with concern. As Steve dried off he realized he’d left Catherine’s letter on the dining room table, and Danny, having let himself in the house, and being probably overly concerned at Steve’s lack of responsiveness, would have seen it. And, Danny being Danny, he would have at least looked to see what it was. As soon as he’d seen who it was from, Steve knew, Danny would have dropped it like a hot potato. But he would have known. And Steve knew the bottle of rum would not have gone unnoticed either.

Danny looked questioningly at him, but didn’t say anything. Steve was glad for that. Because he still had no earthly idea what to say. He wasn’t even sure he knew what to _think_. So he surprised himself as much as he did Danny when he took another step closer and pulled Danny into a kiss.

At first he melted into it—which filled Steve’s chest with a thrill that completely stunned him. But then Danny tried to pull back. Steve’s natural impulse was to fight him, to hold him tighter, but he stopped himself just in time and released Danny. He had his eyes closed, and he didn’t dare open them.

“Alright,” Danny said, clearly shaken. “Alright. Come with me.”

When Steve opened his eyes, he saw Danny was gathering up Steve’s clothes, the bottle, and the glass. Danny didn’t meet his eyes, he just turned and walked towards the house. Steve let out a breath and followed.

Danny headed for the kitchen.

“Danny,” Steve said softly as he caught up with him.

“Just shut up,” Danny said, his tone so utterly like anything Steve had heard before it terrified him. “Go shower, I’m going to make you some food.” As if he was afraid Steve would object, say something about lighting his house on fire or something, Danny turned towards him, but still didn’t meet his eyes. “Do not argue with me right now, Steven. Go shower. And I don’t mean a Navy shower. I want you in there for ten minutes at least. Now just go.”

Steve knew he had to have a wide-eyed, deer in the headlights look. He felt exactly like that. He hadn’t realized that was actually possible. He turned and headed to the stairs, looking back once to see what Danny was doing. He saw him standing utterly still, arms shoulder-width apart, palms resting on the counter. Steve found he felt absolutely nauseous, and he was sure it had nothing to do with rum. Looking at the time on his watch, he took the stairs two at a time and shut himself in his bathroom where he turned on the water and sat on the toilet, trying to calm his breathing.

Well, he told himself. Danny hadn’t fled. That was something at least. Worst case, he tried to tell his stuttering mind, Danny’d brush it off as shock, rum, and stupidity. Thing was, Steve knew he couldn’t live with that. With a deep breath, he got in the shower and told his brain to stop thinking. There wasn’t a thing he could do about it now except to do as Danny said and hope, hope with all he was worth, that this would go his way.

He spent exactly ten minutes in the shower, and then he came back down, dried and dressed in sweats and a tee he was fairly sure made his eyes look really green, not that he spent a lot of time thinking about that. It had been a long time since he’d even thought of dressing to call attention to his eyes, but it was something he had taken notice of—which shirts of Danny’s made his eyes look bluest. _Maybe that should have been a sign_ , he told himself.

Danny was waiting for him at the dining room table with a plate of eggs and toast. He’d put the letter back in the envelope. Steve wondered briefly if that had been to keep himself from reading it, or to say to Steve that he hadn’t.

Meeting his eyes, finally, Danny said: “Eat. Do not talk. I’ll be down at the chairs. When you’re done, come find me. And, don’t eat like a Neanderthal. Eat slowly. Chew, swallow. Alright?”

Steve nodded, and did as he was told.

When he was done eating, he rinsed the dish and left it in the sink. He grabbed two beers from the fridge, and headed down to the beach.

“Thanks for the food, Danno,” Steve said softly as he sat down, setting the beers on the table between the chairs.

Danny didn’t respond, didn’t reach for a beer.

Steve left his alone as well. He'd been thinking, while he'd been eating, both of what _to_ say, and more importantly, he thought, of what _not_ to say. He'd decided preamble would be pointless and probably only irritate Danny. Better, he decided, just to dive in, right at the parts that mattered.

“It was like there was nothing left,” he started, softly. He knew in his heart that Danny would be mad at him for not having spoken of this before, completely regardless of why he was doing it now. Danny would be hurt that he hadn’t shared it with him, as a friend. “It felt like she took it all. I think that’s why....” He took a breath, let it out slowly. All he could do now was hope Danny might see why he hadn’t been able to share it... even though he hadn’t known himself. “I think that’s why I was such a jerk this past year.” He let that sit there for a bit... watched Danny, but couldn’t read his reaction, and Steve realized he was holding it in. He laughed to himself. He deserved that. Well, it didn’t matter, because he didn’t have a choice at this point. He couldn’t _not_ tell Danny now. He took another breath. Swallowed. “But there _is_ something left, Danny. What’s left is you. And now it’s like I can see that clearly. And I don’t know why I couldn’t before, but now it’s just.... What’s left is you and now I know that’s what I wanted all along. I just never let myself see it.”

Danny was, remarkably, still not giving him any sense of a reaction at all. He took a quick breath and pushed on before he could begin to doubt himself. “And I realize this is a lot all at once and I’m sorry. I know you don’t trust me right now, and I know that’s my fault because I was a jackass all of last year. And I can’t ever make that up to you and I hate that. But what I can do is change it right now. And I’m going to show you, I’ll prove it.....” He kind of ran out of steam, and he just sat there. Waiting for a response, hoping for some glimmer of hope, something.

It was a long time before Danny even breathed, it seemed to Steve. When he finally moved, it was with a huge sigh that sounded like it was letting out the weight of many months. Danny stretched out a little in his chair, leaned back, let his feet (which were bare, Steve was delighted to note) wiggle a bit in the sand. He still didn’t turn to look at Steve. But after a little bit longer, he spoke.

“You’re an idiot you know.”

Steve grinned instantly. _That was the best glimmer there could be_ , his heart sang.

“Yeah, I know,” he whispered.

“You don’t have to prove it,” Danny said, on a little sigh, as though he were slightly exasperated, which, let’s be honest, was Danny’s typical talking-to-Steve tone.

“I don’t?”

“No, you goof. You don’t. You just have to realize it. Saying it is nice too,” he said softly, almost as an after thought... almost as though he’d said that bit before, which Steve knew was true. He needed to work on saying to Danny the things he saw as completely obvious. He hoped he could do that. “The question is,” Danny continued. And now he did turn and look at Steve. “What are you going to do about it?”

Steve bit his lip, and he knew it was not the best time for kidding, but there was only one thing on his mind, and it was just what came out.

“I have a ring....”

Danny actually laughed. “I swear to god if you propose to me with that ring I will kill you.”

Steve got out of his chair and he fell to his knees in the sand in front of Danny. Yeah, he’d admit, now he’d come this far, he couldn’t think of anything less than marrying Danny, but he knew it would need to be a smaller step than that for now. Still, begging wasn’t beneath him. “Danny. Just let me try. That’s all I’m asking. Just let me try. I know I’m going to mess it up, I know I’m going to drive you crazy. But just let me try.”

“Of course you drive me crazy, you idiot. I wouldn’t ever expect that to change.”

“That’s not a ‘no,’” Steve pointed out.

“It’s not a no.” Danny was smiling now. That had to be a good sign.

“Is it a yes?” Steve asked, so so softly.

Danny pressed his lips together, and Steve found himself licking his... in anticipation? Yeah, okay, in anticipation....

“Well, I guess, if I’m all you’ve got left....” The look Danny gave Steve was a completely new one, and Steve’s heart practically jumped out of his chest at the way it made him feel. He’d had friends become lovers before, and he’d had lovers become friends.... but he’d never fallen in love with his best friend before, and he wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t just explode with the feeling.

“You’re all I need, Danny. All I need.” And he stood up, pulling Danny with him, and he looked him in the eye, waiting. Not wanting to make the first move this time, needing it to be Danny, needing Danny to be the one to say, “yeah, okay....”

Danny looked deeply in Steve’s eyes, and Steve knew he was looking for reassurance. He hoped he could give it. Danny must have seen something, because he closed his eyes, let out a sigh, and leaned in. Steve saw in that, so clearly, Danny making the decision to trust, and that was not something he was going to take lightly. He put his hands to Danny’s face.

“Danny,” he said softly.

“Mmm?” Danny sighed back.

“Danny, look at me.”

Danny’s eyes flickered open, and Steve almost gasped. He looked so unguarded, so unshielded, so exposed, Steve didn’t think he’d seen that look from Danny, ever, and it really made him feel like making vows and promises and taking a freaking oath, because he knew this was the most serious commitment of his life, taking that trust, taking that freely given openness.

Some spark of recognition flashed in Danny’s eyes, and Steve realized that his thoughts had been just as clear to Danny as Danny’s had just been to him.

And Danny was nodding, just slightly, “Okay,” Danny said, softly, and Steve’s pulse flickered as if Danny had said “I do,” and they both moved at the same time, and when their lips met it was... it was like no other kiss Steve had ever known. Even if he’d been good with words he didn’t think he would have tried to explain it, but he couldn’t imagine feeling any more promised to anyone, and that felt more amazing than he'd ever imagined it possibly could.


End file.
